


Coming Down

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [18]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Breeding Kink, Day 16, Day 16 Kinktober, Day 16 Kinktober 2020, Day 16 Kinktober 2020 Breeding Kink, Day 16 Kinktober Breeding Kink, Day Sixteen Kinktober, Day Sixteen Kinktober 2020, Day Sixteen Kinktober 2020 Breeding Kink, Day Sixteen Kinktober Breeding Kink, Day sixteen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Mentions of Pregnancy, Mentions of alcohol, One Shot, POV Second Person, Penis In Vagina Sex, Prompt: Breeding Kink, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Short One Shot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bisexual reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: After you and Hotch discuss the possibility of children, you realize something about him.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862236
Comments: 3
Kudos: 111





	Coming Down

_"I've got a lover,_

_A love like religion,_

_I'm such a fool for sacrifice."_

\- "Coming Down," _Halsey_

* * *

The cases with kids were always the hardest. You know those hit JJ especially hard, but Hotch was just as affected, though he hid fairly well. Now that you've grown closer to Jack as your relationship with Hotch progressed, you could see just how hard it was.

Even before you were ever with Hotch, you knew that you didn't want to have children because of cases like this. But sometimes you caught Hotch looking at you when you were helping Jack with his Legos or when you'd offer to tuck him into bed. The look in Hotch's eyes was just so bittersweet, the want painted boldly across his face that he didn't even bother to try to hide from you. While you were glad Hotch no longer hid his feelings from you, in this one case you were surprised by how open he could be. The two of you weren't even married, weren't even living together. It was at your apartment that Hotch first brought up the idea.

"You're very good with Jack," he began, after he finished telling you about how his parent-teacher conference went. While Jessica was still watching Jack, he swung by your apartment for dinner. It would probably be a late night for the both of you anyway, catching up on paperwork after the two weeks you spent out jetting from Oregon to Colorado to Arkansas, back to back to back.

You didn't say anything immediately, choosing instead to refill Hotch's wine glass. The both of you had transferred from your kitchen table to the couch, you tucked on one end and he on the other, a throw pillow separating you.

"Do you ever…" Hotch stalled, "Have you ever wanted to have children?"

Defensively, you raised your wine glass to cover your mouth, warping and distorting Hotch's view of your lips. "I don't know, but I'm happy with Jack," you told him sincerely.

"Just Jack?" Hotch hedged.

"Mhm." You gently twirled your wine glass, watching the deep burgundy liquid swish around. "Aren't you happy with just Jack or have you always wanted more? I know that Jack came late in life for you…" you trailed off. You were well aware of his relationship with Haley, but you were always hesitant to bring her up. You wanted her memory to be at rest, and you knew it was always going to be painful for Hotch.

With a sigh, Hotch explained, "Jack came unintentionally late. There was just never a good time between law school and then SWAT and… Haley and I made a lot of excuses. We enjoyed our time with just the two of us too much, and I do think that part of the reason we had Jack was because Haley was getting lonely without me. But a child doesn't solve any of that." The frown that Hotch usually wore on cases was starting to make a reappearance, looking out of place on him when he was casually dressed in a navy-blue button up and a black pair of jeans. He wasn't even wearing socks on your couch, leaving them tucked up inside his shoes at the door. "It was a hard pregnancy for Haley because we waited so long. And then since I was so distant, I knew a sibling for Jack wouldn't be a good enough reason to have more children."

Feeling a sageness that was beyond your years, you nodded. "Yeah, that's for the best. Jack is almost ten now, and if we were to have one, that would be quite a gap."

"Yeah, like me and Sean," Hotch pointed out. "You can see how well we get along."

That got a snort from you, but thankfully you didn't have any wine in your mouth. "So is there a reason you brought up children with me before I don't know…. before I ever saw a wedding ring? Or a key to your place?"

At least Hotch had the good grace to blush at that. "I... yes. I'm serious about you, and I just, didn't want to hold you back."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "You think… you think I'd rather start my own family with someone else?"

"I know what it feels like to be the unwanted child," Hotch told you directly. While you could make assumptions about his childhood experiences based off your profiling skills, Hotch never explicitly told you anything. You never wanted to ask.

"Aaron," you set your wine glass aside on the coffee table and then reached across the throw pillow to grab one of his hands between yours. "I will always love Jack with all of my heart. No matter what happens, even between us."

His hand flipped around and grabbed one of your in a grateful squeeze. "Thank you." Then his hand skimmed up your arm until he cupped your cheek, holding you in place for a tender kiss. He kept it light and easy, merely sampling the wine off of each other's lips before pulling away back to his side of the couch again.

You were about to pick up your wine glass again when you caught that look in his eye, the same as the other times. Pausing, you sat back against the couch and pulled the throw pillow into your lap. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Hotch's eyes shot to yours in a guilty start, but his voice betrayed nothing. "No, that's all I wanted to be sure about."

"Come on, we were just being honest with each other, Aaron. Don't stop now." Nervously, you smoothed your hand on the pillow. "You can tell me anything, you know that? We can discuss things like adults, and we will be calm and understanding."

At that, Hotch's face softened again and he tipped his head to the side imploringly. "Yes, but this is…different. We don't _have_ to talk about it."

You bounced on your knees. "So, there is something?"

Shaking his head, but not in denial, Hotch looked away. His eyes landed on his wine glass. The graceful stem looked so delicate in his big hands. "I just…like the idea."

"You want more kids?"

Still resolutely not looking at you, Hotch said, "No, I didn't say that…"

For a moment, you pondered his words before the meaning dawned on you. "Oh! You like that even if we don't – can't or couldn't – have kids, it's, it's sexy to you. It's a sex thing." A grin split your face as you leaned across the pillow into his space.

Quickly, Hotch also set his wine glass aside. "Yes, it's a sex thing, but we agreed not to profile each other about those things." His face was nearly as dark at the wine now, more scarlet than burgundy.

You only hummed thoughtfully in response. "I'm not profiling you, honey, I'm just thinking about it." And you were thinking about it. "You could come inside me, you could just pump me full until it's dripping out of me, and then you could take your fingers and push it back inside." You twisted around and grabbed your wine glass for a fortifying gulp that nearly had you choking. Your face was starting to get very warm, but you knew you hadn't drunk enough for it be purely from the alcohol. "Would I call you 'Daddy'?"

Hotch's brown eyes were nearly black when he met your gaze. Despite the lust in eyes, though, embarrassment was still frank on his face. His ears were scarlet now, too. "Sweetheart…" he trailed off.

But you only picked it back up again, "I think I would. Yeah, I like the idea, too. It's romantic that you would think of me like that, that you would like me carrying something precious for you, that you could build your life with me. But it's also so fucking filthy and messy – it's almost primal, right Aaron?" This time your grin shifted into something a little slier. "Daddy?"

Hotch glanced down at the wine glass still clutched in your hand before he snatched it away and placed it aside. He saved your throw pillow and couch from the stain as he tackled you down. "Is this what you want, sweetheart?" He growled above you, "You want Daddy to breed your little cunny?"

A gasp escaped your mouth before you could catch it. All jokes aside, seeing Hotch like this and thinking about him breeding you… it was definitely getting you hot and bothered, regardless of the logistics. It was just make-believe, pretend, fantasizing. Good, healthy, fantasizing in a safe place to play it out. And you knew Hotch would listen to you. So, you reached up and curled your fingers through his dark hair, eyes searching his face. "Oh yes, Daddy," your voice was high and breathy as you played your part in the fantasy, "I want you to come inside me."

Something like gratefulness passed over Hotch's face before he, too, embroiled himself in the fantasy. "You think you've been good enough for Daddy to bread you, sweetheart?" He lowered his body down until he was pressing you into the couch cushions, definitely not crushing you since he had enough strength control in his arms, but making you aware of his power over you. "You have to earn Daddy's come."

You nodded, giving little tugs on his hair to pull his face closer down to yours. Between kisses scattered across his cheeks, you murmured, "I've been so good for you, Daddy. I can be so much better." As your mouth slid closer to his ear, you whispered, "I love your come so much. I need it, Daddy, please."

"Oh, you need it?" Hotch rolled his hips into yours, and your thighs fell open helpless, one leg off the couch until your foot planted on the floor for purchase. His erection was obscenely huge against you, so hard in a matter of minutes just from playing like this. You'd have to remember this for next time for sure. "You want Daddy's come in you? I could just fuck your pretty mouth; let you drink it down until your belly is so full. You like that?"

"No," you whined. Your hands dropped down between your bodies to unbutton his shirt. "I need it in my pussy, Daddy. Need it there so bad. I'm so wet for it."

Chuckling, Hotch pushed himself up. Your hands managed to unbutton his shirt all the way so it flopped open, really a tantalizing strip of skin from his collarbones to the jut of his pelvic bone. While he stripped his shirt off, he ordered you, "Show Daddy how wet you are, sweetheart."

Impatient, you both started to unbutton your own pants. Hotch stood up to hastily kick his and his boxers off, so he could assist you with shucking your pants and underwear off as well. Clothes were piling up around your living room, finally joined by your shirt until you were both naked. You stayed reclined on the couch, your head resting against one arm with the throw pillow tucked behind your neck for extra support.

Hotch was kneeling between your legs, one leg hitched over the back of the couch and the other on the floor. With one hand on holding his erection against his stomach, he checked your wetness with his eyes at first. His stare was as heavy as a hand, resting on the apex of your thighs. "You are wet," he agreed, clearly pleased that you were enjoying this as much as him. "You're glistening. So pretty, sweetheart."

"Just for you." You brought your hands up to your chest, plucking at your nipples as you watched him eagerly.

"Just for Daddy." Then Hotch reached his free hand for your cunt. "And you want Daddy to come in here?" He checked as he slid only his middle finger inside your passage.

You tightened your walls around the digit, smiling at he sucked in a breath of surprise. "I need Daddy to come in there. Put a baby in me."

Slowly, he started working that finger in and out of you. "My sweetheart wants Daddy to fill up this little cunny? You want to be bred? You want to be a drippy little mess?"

Quivering with excitement, you squeaked out, "Y-yes, please, I need it, Daddy. I need you. Wanna be yours."

Hotch added another finger in preparation. His pumping motion changed into a scissoring one to open you up for his thick cock. That cock was starting to leak now as Hotch rubbed it up and down, still pressed flat against his tummy. Leave it to Hotch to be that good at multitasking while you were a writhing, sweaty mess of akimbo limbs on your own couch.

Your whines were coming out in earnest now. Surely there would be a noise complaint from your neighbors tomorrow, but you hardly spared a thought to that now. "Shush," Hotch soothed you even as the pace of his fingers never slowed, "Daddy is going to take care of you, sweetheart."

As Hotch removed his fingers and used those same ones to slick up his cock, you tried to spread your legs even wider. The muscles of your inner thighs stretched and twinged in protest, the pain probably going to be impeding your walk tomorrow, but you didn't care. You were fully living in the fantasy at this point.

Finally, Hotch positioned the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. Your greedy walls tried to suck him inside, but Hotch did not yet move. He waited until your eyes locked with his before he started to sheathe himself inside you. The thrust was slow and sure. Hotch got to watch you press your head back against the throw pillow, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, but you missed the way his jaw dropped in awe at your warmth and wetness.

Once he was fully seated, he stopped and repositioned his hands so he could support himself comfortably again. Your own hands gave up stimulating your nipples when you were so oversensitive already. You gripped the back of the couch and the throw pillow behind your head. "Daddy," you moaned, "Oh, fuck, Daddy you're so big. You're stretching me."

"I know, sweetheart, I know." Hotch's voice was tense, his muscles flexed as taut as a bowstring. "Daddy's going to fuck you full of his come." Your walls spasmed at the promise, and you knew Hotch felt it by how he groaned and bared his teeth. Then he was fucking you in earnest, his pace animalistic.

There was hardly any space between your bodies with the way Hotch was moving. With every shove forward, his pelvis tilted in such a way that he ground against your so-far neglected clit. It was like repeatedly striking a match to cause a spark. Above you, Hotch was a panting, sweating mess. As his hair started to get saturated with his sweat, it flopped further into his eyes, but he just flicked it away with a jerk of his chin, his eyes on you. The way his face was contorted, if he wasn't balls deep in you, you would have thought him angry. But he wasn't angry, he was just unleashed from his control.

Then Hotch shifted the angle of his thrusts, and your pleasure jacked up immediately. The sparks caught flame deep inside your gut, and you started chanting his name, forgetting the fantasy for a moment. "Oh, Aaron, Aaron, I'm gonna – gonna," you broke off into a high-pitched whine and clutched at his shoulders. "I'm gonna come."

"I know, I want you to come with me. Come for Daddy, sweetheart," Hotch growled. Then he did as he promised, spilling deep in your channel you until you felt so pleasantly full and sloshy on the inside. Your orgasm was a series of deep flutters that rang through the rest of your body until it shook your fingers and toes.

After he finished, Hotch's arms finally gave out. He fell on top you, effectively pinning you to your couch. His cock remained snug inside, and you closed your legs around his hips until your hooked ankles rested between his calves on the other arm of the couch. Hotch pressed his face against the side of your neck, searching for oxygen against your skin between lazy, half-hearted kisses. With limbs as sluggish as molasses, you dragged your hands back up to his hair again, petting the back of his head.

Coming back down to earth, Hotch mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" You asked, coming down from your own high to force yourself to listen.

He lifted his head an inch away from your skin. "Thank you for that, sweetheart."

Your laugh was breathlessly weak. "Oh, Aaron. I love you." You smacked a wet kiss to the side of his head. "Especially that kinky side. Do you have any other ideas we can try?"

Hotch glanced at you out of the corner of his eye with that same look again. "Sweetheart, you have no idea."


End file.
